


Soft Tingle

by devilishsmirk



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Insecure Wade Wilson, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Slow Burn, this is soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-08-12 22:57:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20164018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilishsmirk/pseuds/devilishsmirk
Summary: No matter how hard Spider-Man tried, he couldn't get rid of Deadpool. No matter how hard Wade tried to shake him off, Peter Parker kept following him around.





	1. Of Talking Shadows and Patrol

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time actively trying to write a story and I am quite excited :3

The first few times they met weren't so nice. Deadpool had kicked Spider-Man off a bridge (he had been in his way) and even shot at him several times (he had been in his way again and sometimes you just gotta blow off some steam). But that was before they had to team up and since then, Deadpool was following Spider-Man around like a shadow, constantly talking, making jokes and flirting with Spider-Man. The hero had tried to get rid of the mercenary the first few times, but then just... kind of accepted him? Deadpool didn't quite know. He didn't mind though. In fact, he liked Spider-Man and kinda looked up to him, metaphorically because Deadpool was a good 6'6. Spider-Man was a good person through and through. He fights off bigger threads like fishbowl-head and The Goblin, but also stops robberies and even helps old ladies and kids! Spider-Man had currently been hanging out on a rooftop when Deadpool had joined him. At first he had seemed annoyed at the merc's constant rambling, but then he had started to throw in some things himself until they were having a full on conversation. Deadpool enjoyed it. "I don't quite get it", said Spider-Man after a while, "why do you keep showing up and following me?" Deadpool blinked. "How could I not? You have the almost hottest ass in New York!" Spider-Man snorted. "Almost hottest?" "Nobody beats Captain America's ass!", Deadpool cheerfully exclaimed. Spider-Man quietly chuckled. When he met the merc with the mouth for the first time he had tried to fight him, convinced that the things people said about him were true. Someday Deadpool had started to basically stalk him. Spider-Man couldn’t walk down a street without the mercenary following at least two blocks behind. Every time his spidersense would go off and he’d swung away. Though it never took long for his senses to go haywire again until they had started to calm down. Deadpool apparently didn’t mean any harm, at least not for Spider-Man. And yet. Whenever Deadpool is close by, his spidersense goes off. Not in an alarming way, but more in a soft tingly way. Spider-Man didn’t mind that. He also didn’t mind Deadpool anymore. In fact he had started to actively listen to his ramblings and he looked forward to their pointless conversations and discussions. Spider-Man realised he had been zoning out, but Deadpool didn’t seem to have noticed. He was now having a debate with himself which Avenger was the hottest. Spider-Man listened amused. “I guess Thor is pretty good looking, but Captain America might just look a little hotter. “No way, Thor looks way better!”, Spider-Man intervened. Now Deadpool was crossing a line! It went like that for a few more weeks although they only seemed like a few days to Spider-Man and Deadpool. Both wouldn’t admit it, no sir, but time seemed to pass faster when you’re with someone you like, or in Spider-Man’s case, are really starting to.

Spider-Man would fight some bad guys, then sit down somewhere to relax until the soft tingle of his senses would tell him, that Deadpool was there. Then they'd have a nice conversation and part ways. Spider-Man wouldn't admit it, but he appreciated the company. Believe it or not, sometimes he felt a bit lonely out on patrol. Or generally. But it's gotten better ever since Deadpool started talking to him. Or at least a bit. To be honest, Spider-Man couldn't stand him at first. Understandable, he had pushed him off a goddamn bridge and shot at him more than once. Spider-Man had thrown him off a rooftop in return, knowing that the merc with the mouth would come back anyway. He did indeed, not even an hour later Spider-Man's senses told him that Deadpool was following him. It was really annoying at first, but Deadpool seemed more and more like a lost puppy to him, and since he couldn't get rid of him, Spider-Man started talking to him. Over time he got to know him a bit. Deadpool was crazy, yes. He killed people for a living, that’s true. But he wasn’t as insane and ruthless as other people (say, the avengers) would say. Sure, the things he’d say would often make no sense and he would sometimes monologue with himself, not in a way normal people do, but more like in a sort of schizophrenic way. Sometimes bits and pieces of informations about his past would fall. From what he sometimes told, somebody had probably messed with his head and that’s the reason he’s lacking moral compass and sanity. At least that’s what Spider-Man assumed. It didn’t bother him too much, aside from the killing.

They were once again sitting on a rooftop, mind you not just on the plain top but rather on the edge, Deadpool was talking about something and Spider-Man listened and threw in a question here or there. The idea, although it seemed, occured to him very suddenly (If he was honest with himself he had been thinking about this for way longer, but who would admit that?) &IdquoDo you wanna go on patrol together?&rdquo, he asked. Deadpool went completely silent for a moment and looked at him. Spider-Man tried to tell, what expression he was making, but Deadpool's mask was blank, he might as well have tried to read a rock. "You really wanna go on patrol? With me? Spidey I think you might've hit your head when you took out those burglars", he finally said. "No, I didn't and yes, I'd like you to go on patrol with me. You're pretty good in combat and you're already following me around anyways, so you might as well join me." Deadpool snorted. "Well I can't argue with that. Okay, Spidey, if you like me that much I will gladly join you", he gasped and then exclaimed excitedly: "Does that mean we're team Spideypool now? Oooh let’s make a logo! And a theme song! We need a theme song, Spidey!" Spider-Man groaned.


	2. Of Migraines And Spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being Spider-Man is pretty cool and all, but having migraines because of your heightened senses is not. It's even less fun when it happens in the middle of class.

It had been a long night and by the time Peter got home the sky was already lighting up. He climbed through the window in the living room of his small apartment. His muscles were screaming in pain and exhaustion. Not long after he and Deadpool had parted ways, Spider-Man had run into Scorpion. Long story short, Spider-Man had knocked him unconscious and webbed him up for the police after Scorpion had wiped the floor with him. Now Peter was too tired to take his suit off. He took off his mask and as soon as his head hit the pillow of his bed he fell asleep.

And then Peter overslept.

He stumbled out of bed the second he realised and soon he was sprinting through his tiny apartment. He hastily yanked his suit off and put on some pants and a sweater. Then he grabbed his camera, his jacket, pulled his shoes on (no socks though, because who needs socks) and off he went. It was a rainy day and the streets of Queens were packed with people. Great. Peter sighed and sprinted through the rain to give the photographs from last week's fight against Mysterio (that guy just keeps coming back, it's getting annoying) to Jameson. If he made it in time Jameson might not be mad at him.

Oh Peter had been so wrong! Jameson wasn't mad, he was furious. He was only five minutes late, the rain had completely soaked Peter and now water was dripping from his hair and clothes onto Jameson's carpeted floor. "And why for god's sake are you late?!", Jameson ranted on. "I studied last night. Didn't get much sleep" Peter mumbled. Well at least the latter was true. He was freezing and a pounding headache was starting to form. "At least your photos are acceptable. Now take your money and get out of my sight!!" the man shouted, his face red as a beet. Peter did as he was told and shuffled out of the office, ignored everyone around him and left the building of the Daily Bugle. He was fuming on the inside. The photos had been really hard to take and the money he got for them barely covered his rent! Maybe he should look out for another job or talk to Jameson, though the angry man would probably rip his head off. Peter made his way home, thinking about how he could make his photographs better.

Peter arrived back at his apartment and had just enough time to change into dry clothes, grab his backpack and an umbrella and (finally) put on some socks before he left again. The university was miles away in Manhattan and Peter had to take the subway as always. There he was now, squeezed between a sweaty man and some gothic guy. He sighed again. The headache hadn't worsened, but it also hadn't gotten any better. And even though that heavily breathing lady over there was a good ten feet away, it sounded like she was breathing right into Peter's sensitive ears and it made him shudder. He didn't like the subway.

"That would be $6.66, dear." Peter gave the lady at the register a $10 note and told her to keep the rest. She was a nice lady after all and Peter would often have some smalltalk with her. If he had a good day. But today had sucked so far and it wasn't even noon yet, so Peter gave her a tired smile and left the store, chugging the first coffee on the way to class. Three hours and two seminars later Peter had downed even more coffee and a few snacks. His headache had increased and it now felt like the Hulk was punching his brain. His professors had given him a ton of work and Peter just wanted to go home and sleep.

That's exactly what he did. Peter luckily only had classes in the morning and so he went home and took some painkillers and a nap. Later in the afternoon, Peter actually felt worse than he had before. His head felt like it was going to explode and his all his senses were going haywire. He shut the curtains of his windows took more painkillers and laid onto the couch, whining in pain. He winced when his phone buzzed, sounding a lot louder than it probably was. It was his aunt calling him, so Peter picked up the phone to answer the call.

"Hi, aunt May." "Hello Peter, how are you and how's it going with college?" Peter screwed his eyes shut at the loud voice of his aunt but answered nonetheless. "M'doing good, but I don't feel so well right now", he murmured, "probably a migraine, but I'm not sure... I don't think I can come to our movie night." His aunts voice now didn't sound so loud anymore, thank god. "Oh you don't have to apologize, it's alright. I could come over and cook us something while you get some rest."

And aunt May did just that.

A good hour later they were both sitting at Peter's small kitchen table, eating spaghetti. Aunt May had been so nice to dim the lights so Peter's eyes didn't hurt that much. His headache was also getting better and they both spoke very quietly as May told Peter about her week. He felt a bit bad for not having helped her with the cooking, but she brushed it off. "I'm sure you wouldn't let me cook with a migraine either." "No, aunt May! But still.." She didn't let him say anymore and instead asked if he was eating enough. Of course. May knew about him being Spider-Man, she had found out years ago, and also knew about his metabolism. Peter told her that he was fine, after all he and May ate dinner together once every week. Peter was very happy about that.

When they had finished, Peter washed the dishes while May helped him. By the time she left, his headache was almost gone and Peter felt a lot better. He would get started on his paperwork for college now and then swing around the city later. He was certain that he would run into a certain merc with a mouth while doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not good, I know but I still enjoy writing this. :>


End file.
